


One Triple-shot Cafaccino with Extra Foam for the Supreme Leader

by wrathkitty



Category: Kylo Ren - Fandom, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, ben solo - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Armitage Hux is a Jerk, Baristas, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Caffeine Addiction, Caffeine Withdrawal, Coffee, Coffee Shops, F/M, Finalizer (Star Wars), Food as a Metaphor for Love, Force blind, Humor, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren Redemption, Lemon Cakes, Light Angst, May the Force Be With You, Mischief, Not Canon Compliant, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, POV Ben Solo, POV Kylo Ren, Parody, Passive-aggression, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Psychology, Redeemed Ben Solo, Resistance, Romance, Sarcasm, Satire, Slow Burn, Smut, Snark, Soft Ben Solo, Soft Kylo Ren, Star Wars - Freeform, Starbucks, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, The Force, kylo ren/ofc - Freeform, obviously, sneaky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-19 08:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22874548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrathkitty/pseuds/wrathkitty
Summary: Thanks to budget cuts, theFinalizeris down to one remaining barista, and Kylo Ren's secret love of bespoke caffeinated beverages means there's no avoiding her -- even after he begins to suspect she's Resistance scum.But she makes one hell of an espresso.Pity he has to let her live.(If you enjoy satire, snark, and angst, you might find this to be amusing reading material.)
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Ben Solo/Original Female Character(s), Kylo Ren/Ben Solo, Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), kylo ren/ofc
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	One Triple-shot Cafaccino with Extra Foam for the Supreme Leader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given that the joke went over my beta’s head... “Coruscanto” is a play on Coruscant and Americano, which is an espresso diluted with hot water.
> 
> And, the “Seven-Oh-Nine” is totally a tribute to the Star Trek character.

Kylo Ren peered out of his chamber door, eyes narrowed to slits behind the confines of his mask.

“What,” he growled, “do you mean they’re **_out of caf?”_ **

ID10T, the latest in a long line of unlucky protocol droids sent to darken the Supreme Leader’s doorstep each morning at 0500, gulped.

“As I have said the last two times, sir,” nervously repeated Ideetentee. “The Starcaf has run out of, er, caf. The proprietor expresses her sincere regrets and suggests you check back again tomorrow.”

Kylo Ren took a single step forward.

“The...proprietor,” he repeated.

Ideetentee took a single step backwards.

“Yes, sir, the proprietor.”

Kylo Ren’s eyes narrowed further. “Expresses her...regrets.”

The droid cocked its head to the side. 

“Y-yes. Which she said were sincere, although she was snickering at the time, which admittedly calls into question whether she actually was sincere. If I may say so, sir,” added Ideetentee thoughtfully, “You may wish to have a diagnostic run on your primary auditory processors. They seem to be in need of a tune up --”

The droid’s attempt to be helpful ended in a spectacular shower of sparks, its silver chassis slashed in two by the blade of a lightsaber. 

A pair of astromechs meekly wheeled themselves over from where they had been standing sentry in the hallway, bearing witness to Kylo Ren’s first fit of pique of the morning. As he was wont to do, the Supreme Leader paid the droids no mind and took off down the corridor, black robes billowing behind him.

Yes, Kylo Ren furiously brooded to himself as he stormed into the lift, a _pattern_ had developed, these past few weeks. Three cycles’ worth of careful analysis had confirmed his suspicions:

He was being toyed with.

And that simply would not do.

Why is why, now, at long last, he was marching right to the source, so as to inform the aforementioned source the _profound_ errors of her ways.

Pity he had no choice but to let her live.

It was no secret throughout the fleet that the Supreme Leader suffered from a few personality flaws. Poor anger management skills, no frustration tolderance whatsoever, predilection to vandalism, and the like.

The list went on.

But only a _select_ number -- the recently-departed Ideetentee and scores of other unlucky protocol droids who had preceded it; one or two stormtroopers who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time; as well as Hux and Phasma (the former and latter both suffering from from the same weakness as Kylo Ren, and therefore _very_ much reliant upon each others’ discretion) -- were privy to the fact that the Supreme Leader suffered from...an addiction. 

Indeed, contrary to popular belief, the Knight of Ren could not live by Force alone. Not since the day ~~his uncle~~ Luke Skywalker lured him towards the _true_ Dark Side with that fateful cup of caf.

It was all over, after that.

His elixir of life was easily sourced, at least, and in the years since, he had never encountered any difficulty obtaining his morning hit. 

One triple-shot Coruscanto with extra foam meant the difference between a productive day alternately spent terrorizing various star systems and making fun of his ginger second-in-command...or countless hours lost to withdrawal-induced rages and destruction of property.

Not even the First Order, however, was immune to budget cuts. Snoke had proved to be a miserable failure at balancing a checkbook and as a result, the First Order’s coffers had taken a severe blow during his tenure. 

Kylo Ren, being in possession of keener financial acumen than his predecessor, had managed to stave off most of the bloodletting of the bank accounts (both literally and figuratively; the body count tended to be rather high on days his investments dropped in value).

Serving both as both full-time despot and part-time broker was exhausting, however, and so he was not paying close attention the morning his auditors presented him with a rundown of Things That Were First To Go. 

Complementary hair styling products, gone.

Pick-up and delivery dry cleaning, gone.

Evening turn down service, gone.

Starcafs on every floor of the ship, gone.

Kylo Ren had blithely signed off on the list of recommendations, sat down later that night to read the fine print, and promptly executed his entire financial team.

Fronting the cost for organic shampoo was a sacrifice he could deal with. But losing the First Order’s franchise of Starcarfs?

Unacceptable.

Alas, an eleventh-hour hiring of his CPAs came too little, too late. The wheels had been set in motion, and within a week, the number of Starcafs on the _Finalizer_ dwindled down to one.

The one Starcaf he had made sure to spare.

 _Her_ Starcaf. 

* * *

Starcaf Seven-oh-Nine, located just off the Bridge mezzanine, was a one-barista operation. Managed by a human female, she had discovered the Supreme Leader’s Achilles’ heel within her first week of employment, and set about exploiting his weakness in whatever manner she saw fit.

The Force was a mighty weapon, but Kylo Ren quickly learned that the dark arts of operant conditioning were equally formidable.

The day after a loss to the Resistance was always followed up with his usual cup of caf, delivered right on the dot of 0500, and accompanied by an extra-thick slice of Starcaf’s signature lemon loaf (his favorite). Pick-me-up espressos and snacks would appear at his side throughout the day. Best of all, a mug of hot chocolate, smothered in a cloud of mini marshmallows, would be waiting on his nightstand when he returned to his chambers at the end of the day.

Yes, a steady supply of caffeine and sugar were as much a balm to the Supreme Leader’s ego as a successful coup. Never in his life had defeat tasted so good.

Victory, unfortunately, came at a cost.

A First Order win meant that the next morning's caf would arrive late. His slice of lemon loaf was of paltry proportions, either stale or cut from the heel of the loaf, or both. There were no espressos. Munchies were still provided, but all were gluten-free, which meant being obligated to share with Hux and his damned car. And instead of being greeted at night with a cup of cocoa, all that would be left on his nightstand was a tepid cup of chamomile tea -- unsweetened.

Adding insult to injury, he also quickly came to find that his own poor behavior resulted in similar punishment — regardless of whether he had been engaged in battle at the time or not!

Coincidence? Ha! He had tolerated these indignities thus far, but depriving him -- he who was Supreme Leader, the Jedi Killer, and head of the Knights of Ren -- depriving _him_ of the caf to which he was entitled? She had crossed the line, and it was high time that he show her the error of her ways.

* * *

The glass door leading to Starcaf Seven-Oh-Nine shattered as soon as Kylo Ren stepped out of the lift, announcing his arrival in spectacular fashion and causing everyone in the vicinity to scatter.

His boots crunched over the sparkling shards when he walked through what remained of the entrance a few seconds later. 

A human woman stood behind the counter at the far end of the establishment. She held a datapad in one hand, a cup of caf in the other, and was serenely perusing the morning news -- _SUPREME LEADER DESTROYS CONVOY OF X-WINGS FOR NO APPARENT REASON; STORY DEVELOPING_ being the top story of the day. Her name, according to the silver tag attached to her apron, was Gwen. 

_The_ Gwen.

The Supreme Leader's arch nemesis did not glance up from her datapad as he made his approach. Instead, she took a casual sip from her cup -- a cup bearing the initials _SL,_ untidily scribbled alongside the Starcaf's famous green logo. 

The olfactory sensors embedded within Kylo Ren’s helmet confirmed what he already knew: Gwen's cup contained a freshley brewed triple-shot Coruscanto. That cup was _his_ cup.

Livid, he loomed before her and waited to be acknowledged. 

Gwen took another sip of caf, tongue darting out to lick away the foam left lingering on her upper lip. 

The heat from the caf had reddened her lips, observed the Supreme Leader.

He huffed, sternly told himself that he was above such base instincts as physical attraction, and dragged his gaze away from the girl’s mouth and up to her eyes instead.

Mistake number two.

Her eyes were glorious. Long-lashed, accented by a smattering of tiny freckles on her cheeks that begged to be softly kissed as she slept in his arms --

 ** _STOP!_** Kylo roared at his primitive male brain.

Adjacent to him, the wall of metal tumblers began to rattle ominously on their shelves, and that same pair of lovely eyes shot up from the datapad to meet his, now widened in outrage.

At least he had her attention.

Collecting himself, he raised a gloved hand in her direction and summoned the Force.

 _"You,"_ he hissed, "will hand me that cup of caf. **Now."**

He waited for her to hand over the cup. 

She did not hand over the cup.

Snarling, he increased the intensity of his influence, fingers clenching into a fist to draw her towards him.

Gwen lifted an eyebrow and took another deliberate swallow of caf without breaking eye contact.

“You _will_ hand me the cup,” Kylo Ren repeated, words now edged in a growl.

“I _will_ fucking not,” she shot back. The sweetness of her voice belied the irritated expression she wore as she added, “You're wasting your time with the Jedi mind games. I'm Force-blind."

Force-blindness was a rare trait, a one-in-a-million genetic defect that he had only ever encountered in the ancient Jedi texts. But hearing her speak had set his pulse to racing, distracting him. Praying that the auditory modulators on either side of his ears were to blame, Kylo Ren tore off his helmet.

Mistake number three.

Seeing Gwen’s face and form with his own eyes only worsened the erratic rate of his heartbeat. Now he could see that her eyes were deep brown and flecked with gold, offset by the bright white of her hair. She appeared to be about his age, a few years younger, perhaps. 

“And you will be _completely_ blind if you do not hand over the caf,” he shouted, drawing his lightsaber and igniting the blade as he stormed towards the counter.

Mistake number four.

Her delicate features and short, choppy hairstyle evoked memories of his bedside at night, and his mother lulling him to sleep with stories of Alderannian fairies. Once again, Kylo Ren’s thoughts drifted in an unwelcome direction, of how it would feel to be curled up behind Gwen, the sheets twisted around them as he held her and whispered those same stories in her ear --

“Who’s Ben?”

The question jolted him out of his imaginings, and his eyes shot up to meet Gwen's. The annoyed set of her mouth had softened, he saw. Instead she was looking at him in puzzlement and...pity?

Stunned, Kylo Ren slowly lowered his lightsaber and stared at the barista, all thoughts of caf forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also a Loki fan? Check out this other thing I wrote!  
> [You've Got Sucker's Luck](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16201679/chapters/46804579)
> 
> In need of little kid Thor and Loki ridiculousness? Click right this way.  
> [To My Brother, Thor, Whom I Slept With](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16823869/chapters/39491554)
> 
> Portal enthusiast? I gotcha covered.  
> [Come Downstairs and Say Hello](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16202042/chapters/37866458)
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://wrathkitty.tumblr.com), too.


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